


Kamagraphy

by That_Familiar_Feeling



Series: Kuro Week 2k17 [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Amputation, Blood, Death, Gore, Torture, corpse, extreme violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 20:38:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11260542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Familiar_Feeling/pseuds/That_Familiar_Feeling
Summary: Kamagraphy------noun:A process for making copies of paintings using a special press and canvas, which reproduces the texture of the brushstrokes as well as the colour.Kuro Week day three!Day three: Reflection/MirrorThey need to replace the Champion, so they must create the perfect copy. Scars and all.





	Kamagraphy

When Kuro came out of the pods, he was a crystal clean copy of Takashi Shirogane. 

Not that he was aware. 

All he knew, was that he had been specially cloned from the figure only called “Champion”. A ruthless, bloodthirsty fighter. An alien amongst the empire who had risen to the top of the gladiator ring through sheer determination and the will to survive.

Kuro knew this, he’d seen in on a feed that was transmitted to his cell. A constant reminder of what he supposed to learn how to do because…

 

Because the Champion had disappeared. 

 

There was a break in the chain. A traitor no one could name or find. 

The Empire’s crown jewel was stolen right from under the polishers noses. 

And now they needed a new one.

There had been some attempts before him, as he would learn. Beings that fell out of their pods dead before they hit the ground. But he..he was the survivor. 

They swept him away after his disastrous entry to the world. But he was alive...and that was all they needed.

 

He hadn’t expected it coming, he should have...but he hadn’t realized just what it meant to be someone’s clone.

He was thrown into the ring early. Limited training, and no coverage. Private matches that no one was meant to know about and only one survivor was to come out of…

 

_ Survive _

 

He had to kill before he remembered what death was.He was forced to snap bones and draw blood before he knew what vital systems were.

He learned...that regret and guilt came hard wired. 

Something left over from the Champion that no one saw coming. 

_ It’s okay to kill them...it’s okay..you have to… _

This wasn’t his fault…

 

Kuro stood in a room. Covered head to toe in blood and wounds. He was the only survivor, the fallen piled up carelessly around him. He was alive, he was alive.

 

They,  _ She _ , decided that it was good enough. That he was capable enough to survive in the ring and the change go undetected. If only Kuro looked the part…

Kuro was a perfect clone. The wounds and scars that adorned him were earned by himself and himself alone. There was not a singular blemish that had carried over from his genetic match.

 

This was set to be remedied. 

And in the process, the druids created not only a perfect clone...but a new being entirely.

Kuro was laid out and filleted. All obvious wounds that the Champion had were painfully inscribed into his skin. The methods set to match the twin wounds perfectly…

He screamed for days. Blood dripping from his fingers onto the too neat floors of the artists chambers.

 

A specially selected druid and assistant. They were given the task to decorate him until he truly was the Champion’s replacement. 

 

They dipped into his veins and pumped him full of chemicals. Enough that it turned his hair and made his eyes glow a sickly pantone yellow that looked irradiated. 

They used blades, blunt ended tools, and a delicate tool that seared across his skin.

At some point, the witch came in to supervise the final stages.

_ Be quiet. Don’t scream. Don’t flinch. Don’t look her in the eye. Don’t think about… _

They went cheek to cheek and he screamed until his hoarse. Blood dripping into his mouth and he sputtered, choking on it.

 

But they weren’t done…

The singular unique thing that belonged solely to Kuro and Kuro alone.

An arm, black casted metals that looked as elegant as tactical. The parts looked human enough until it came to the finger’s tip. Claws that protruded out and curved much like a felines, a lovingly crafted weapon  that was meant to be fitted onto him.

Only once the previous arm was removed.

Kuro doesn’t remember the pain. He blacked out well before they were finished.

 

He wakes up in complete darkness for the second time.

It’s cold, but not as cold. 

He’s been left on his side on a thin mattress in a tiny room.

 

His whole body burns. They barely patched him up with the intent to make the scars really stand out. 

His arm was gone. Cut off just above the elbow and replaced with a cold, lifeless, replica. 

He cried, sobbed. Wailing in a barely there voice as the last of his sanity broke free from his grip. 

He was the only survivor. And this was his mausoleum. 

**Author's Note:**

> It's all blending together and I'm really glad its working yaaaaas


End file.
